


Love lost and found

by WildestHeart493



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Sokovia Accords, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, But Civil War was still a thing, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Male-Female Friendship, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes, Pregnancy, The timeline is kinda skewed in this story, Time Travel, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-28 14:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30141090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildestHeart493/pseuds/WildestHeart493
Summary: Finally meeting Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes didn't turn out as great as Darcy hoped it'd be, but she doesn't get much of chance to find out why when Jane's wormhole machine sends her back in time.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Darcy Lewis & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Comments: 25
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm spitting out another long ass story. Pray for me, cause I'm doing this by chapters, and I fear the notion of ending up never getting it finished. 
> 
> Anyways! This is another one of those "Darcy travels back in time and meets 1940's Bucky and Steve. Where romance blooms and hearts are broken and mended" stories, Seibel encouraged me to go ahead and write it, cause I felt like I was just copying ideas.

Darcy quietly hummed to herself as she got out of her car, carefully picking up her coffee tray and Jane’s lunch, smiling at the sight of the compound lying in the distance.

She could say with utmost certainty that Jane finally agreeing to Stark’s insistence on moving to the Avengers compound has been an utter blessing: No worries about rent now that she had her own fancy apartment [though the furnishing left much to be desired], access to any sort of media or information of her fancy whenever she felt like it, Janie got to spend more time with Thor and got to have all the lab space she needed with no worry about anyone sniffing around her stuff - okay, that’s a lie! Stark has proven to be a particularly nosey fucker, and has recently struck up the nerve to start meddling around Jane's stuff, and Jane was growing all the more agitated.

But anyways! She got the pleasure of being in the vicinity of some very attractive local residents, including a one Sam Wilson, who she can say has proven to be an absolutely delightful dude to have as a friend and was fun to flirt with, and sometimes he was in the company of the Black Widow and her wry sense of humor.

Clint was like the older brother she always wished for whenever he did show up to the compound, and she liked to think she and Wanda were friends, they did spend a good amount of time binge-watching series together [to which she enjoyed indulging Wanda in her taste for old sitcoms] and cooking|baking.

Only ones who she has not gotten the pleasure of meeting were Captain Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, the two 20th century veterans who have proven to be quite elusive to her - well! Barnes she could get, Mr. Super soldier/spysassin and people-wary being that he was, but the good ole Captain was a bit of a surprise. Darcy could only guess they weren’t all that very extroverted. 

So yes, Darcy was living in extreme comfort [once one excludes the safety drills and the do’s|don’t of the compound] and has probably done a lot of good in her life, like removing the average stressors in life such as worrying over rent and food pay, encouraging hobbies she didn’t get to previously pursue as much and even decided on a whole different career route [The tears Jane had shed when she told her she wanted to become an astrophysicist like her]. 

There really wasn’t much to complain about.

But it was a Wednesday, cause of course it was a Wednesday, while not as horrible as Monday, Wednesday’s had a horrid habit of pulling the rug underneath her, whether for good or bad, it was cumbersome. So Darcy should’ve been on her guard when her day had been going swimmingly so far: She was having a good hair day, her makeup turned out great today, the new floral dress she bought for her blind date fit her like a glove, Jane was being particularly docile today, and they had her favorite drink at the local café, it figures the good day would take a downward spiral at some point.

It had been fine so far, Darcy was just coming in from a coffee run for her and Jane, when she heard the familiar sound of Sam’s voice right around the corner, accompanied by two others. She figured he and the supersoldier duo were going out for a run or something, and had felt a thrill at the notion of finally meeting Rogers and Barnes.

Swiftly soothing down any wrinkles in her dress and brushing down any stray hairs, Darcy adjusted her hold on the coffee tray in her hands and swiftly looked up at the sight of Sam, who was bickering with Barnes about the accuracies in the Hobbit movie of all things, _‘ Barnes is a nerd.’_ She realized with barely restrained delight, and threw Sam a friendly wave when he finally noticed her.

Sam was rather avid in his discussion with Barnes and the utter betrayal at Steve’s blatant, no good favoritism, and was fully prepared to wipe that cheeky look off his face when he saw Darcy, any pettiness he felt at the moment replaced with eagerness to introduce the two to her. He quickly closed the distance between them, raising a brow as he looked at her, “Hey there, you’re looking especially gorgeous today. Got a hot date or something?” 

The young woman gave him a coy smile, twirling a strand of hair with her finger, “As a matter of fact I do, Jane has me set up with some blind date I’m meeting at six,” and threw a brief look at her dress before looking up in inquiry, “Do I pass muster?” She knew she looked good, but it was always nice to hear it confirmed.

“Girl, you look great, that blind date of yours better consider himself lucky.” He assured her, looking at her appreciatively.

Darcy playfully shoved him, making sure to be careful with the drinks in her other hand, “You’re such a charmer. Honestly, I was aiming for a sort of vintage look, since we’re going to an old fashion diner,” She looked down at herself with consideration, twisting her mouth in thought, “I might have gotten a lot of things wrong though.” 

Finding a perfect opening for an introduction, Sam nodded towards his two companions behind him, waiting patiently, “Well if you’re looking for accuracy, I got two vintage soldiers right here that can help. Right, Steve?” He frowned when Steve failed to reply, and taking notice of the concerned look on Darcy’s pale face, he looked over his shoulder to find the two super soldiers standing there staring at her like a couple of deers caught in the headlights, one a little more horrified than the other. His frown broadened, crossing his arms and staring at them with disapproval, “Guys?” 

Bucky was pretty sure something he ate earlier must have left a bad effect on him, cause there was absolutely no way in hell he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. He silently watched as Sam exchanged pleasantries with the woman with the familiar face, memories of someone absolutely dear to him overwhelming his thoughts the longer he stared at her. He could stretch his belief towards a lot of things, considering this line of work of theirs, but this could not be one of them, it just couldn’t be. 

His eyes strayed towards the man standing equally still besides him, hoping for a confirmation that he hasn’t gone mad. The pale shock on Steve’s face told him he wasn’t the only one seeing the resemblance, quietly watching as Steve blinked and boggled at the woman, as if he himself couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing either. 

Grief that he thought he had finally managed to push through came back full force, as did the memories, and he began to wonder if this was some sort of divine punishment sent by fate itself, for his past crimes with Hydra. The idea of seeing this woman wearing his dear wife’s face - and god the fact she looked exactly like Darcy, from the shape of her blue eyes, down to the little mole underneath her right eyebrow did not help - everyday was a thought he did not like dwelling on.

The look of concern she threw him just about did him in, he could hear her asking if he was okay, but those pretty blue eyes holding not even a speck of familiarity left him with a cold sensation in his erratic beating heart. And Bucky could not find it in himself to stick around any longer, slowly backing away before swerving around to leave.

Bucky’s abrupt departure finally seemed to snap Steve out of it, quickly looking over his shoulder at his retreating friend before looking at the painfully familiar face before him, “I’m uh - I’m really sorry about that, it’s just, new people are usually a hit or miss with him; I - I should.….” He really couldn’t help but blink owlishly at her, before jerkishly shaking his head, snapping himself out of it, semi-aware of his rudeness, “I should probably go check on him.” 

With that, he quickly excused himself to go after his friend, throwing them an apologetic look.

Sam looked after the broad back of his quickly retreating friend, thinking of what just happened with complete bafflement, “What the actual fuck.” He muttered to himself, trying to make sense of the whole thing. 

To say he was completely caught off guard by his friends reactions was an understatement - Bucky? Now Bucky he could understand, Steve was right about the people thing, even if the horrified expression on the man’s face had been a cause for concern, but Steve? He was always a modicum of politeness - even to the people he disliked [though that was accompanied with an amazingly cold detachment that almost put Natasha to shame], so the uncharacteristically appalling display of rude staring on the man’s part was bothersome. He’s gonna figure out what the hell that was about.

With a sigh, he turned to look at Darcy and offer an apology, feeling a rush of sympathy at the sight of her uncertain, crestfallen face. Sam offered her a reassuring smile, “I’m really sorry about that, don’t know what has gotten into the two of them.”

The young woman merely waved her hand, dismissing his apologies, “No, it’s fine, really! You can’t win everyone, I - I probably just reminded Barnes of someone from his time with Hydra, is all,” she grimaced and swallowed the lump in her throat, giving him a helpless shrug before gesturing to the coffee tray in her hands, “I should go get this to Jane and get back to work, I’ll see ya later.” 

Sam watched the young woman walk away almost listlessly before frowning, looking towards the direction his friends went off to before moving, ready to give a good scorning and an explanation. 

* * *

He finds Steve back in their apartment just where he thought he'd be, sitting in their living room and looking down at what looked like a photo album. There was no sign of Bucky anywhere, he immediately noticed, looking around the space with a frown and wondering if he should start worrying. Last time something like this had happened, the man disappeared on them.

“Where’s Buck?” Sam asked, quietly moving to stand by his friend, watching as the man gently set the book aside.

Steve let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he gave Sam a wary look, “In the gym, he - he didn’t take the sight of her very well,” He explained, looking away with abashment at his friend’s disapproving look, “We both didn’t, really.” 

Crossing his arms, Sam raised a sardonic brow at the man, “Yeah, I noticed. And you two are gonna offer an apology to that poor girl, cause she now thinks you two just plain out don’t like her,” With that said, he sat down by Steve with a soft grunt, leaning his elbows on his knees to look him in his eyes, “Now, are you gonna offer me an explanation or not?” 

He waited patiently as Steve gathered the bearings to confess, watching as the super soldier idly twiddled his thumbs before letting out a breath, looking back at him, “You know Bucky was married, right?”

The dark skinned man offered a curt nod at the question, “Yeah?” He replied, wondering what the girl had to do with the current situation. 

He could faintly recall a brief detail in the Smithsonian on the man’s wife, and he certainly recalled the day Bucky remembered her; Sam could remember the stricken look on his face when he came looking for Steve, his agitation at demanding information from their friend - he hadn’t been privy to that particular exchange, just the tense silence that followed as Bucky left without a word, Sam only knew he had felt a moment of unease at that eerily familiar blank expression, watching as the man walked away.

Bucky caused a right scare the next day, when his neighbors reported his hut empty, and they could not find any sign of him anywhere. Steve had gone nearly apoplectic to find the man had left the safety of Wakanda without a trace - even princess Shuri had been distressed at the notion. 

They found him of course, nearly two weeks after. Sitting amongst a Hydra base left in complete destruction and massacre, covered nearly head to toe in blood, wordlessly flipping a blade in his hands with a face blank and pale eyes burning with unquenched wrath that had even Steve keeping a wary safe distance. Whatever Steve had told Bucky, it was clear that the man had placed the blame on Hydra completely. 

He was brought back to the present at Steve’s doleful expression, “She looks exactly like his wife.” At the explanation, the super soldier reached for what was actually an old photo album like he thought - probably one amongst the few that Bucky’s youngest sister had given them - and started sifting through the pages until he found what he was looking for, angling it towards Sam for him to see. 

Sitting on a couch cuddled up with who must have been Bucky’s nephew, David, was a young woman smiling - if a bit melancholy - up at the camera. By the looks of it, she was probably a few months along into her pregnancy, and the exhaustion was clear on her face. 

Steve wasn’t kidding about the resemblance though, it was almost creepy, how uncanny it was. There was nothing that set the two women apart: Not the angle of their jawline, the shape of their eyes, the crook of their smile - for Christ sake! She even had a mole in the same place underneath her right eyebrow.

No wonder the poor man looked absolutely shaken. 

He thought of the most reasonable explanation for the oddity, “Well! That explains it, that’s for sure. There a lot of people who have plenty of doppelgangers out there, you included,” thinking about that one goofy actor, and that obnoxious hero that called himself the Flaming Torch with a barely restrained wince, now that’s a guy he wouldn’t want to be in the same room with again, Stark was already enough to deal with as it was, “Darcy will get a kick out of this, say it’ll be all due to her good ole _‘ Lewis luck’_ , we talked about doppelgangers once and she -” 

“What was that?” 

He looked up at his friend at his sudden question, finding the man staring at him with confusion, “What?”

“Her name - what did you say was the girl’s name??” Steve looked almost perplexed and urgent, as if trying to wrap his mind around that piece of information.

Sam looked back at him, feeling almost hesitant to answer, “Darcy Lewis, why?” 

The man watched as his friend slowly reached up to point a finger at the woman in the picture, “Her name was Darcy Lewis.” 

Gaze averting from looking at the picture to Steve and once again, feeling an inexplicable feeling crawling up his spine. He was pretty sure this was going to take a weirder turn, “You sure it’s ‘Lewis’? Maybe it was Louise, Luis, maybe Ellis, or -”

“L-E-W-I-S, Lewis.” Steve rebutted, staring back at him unblinkingly. 

Sam’s face screwed with perplexion, reaching up to scratch the back of his head in confusion, pondering for an explanation for this. Cause having a look-alike was explainable, but a look-alike that also shared the same name as you? Now that was just a little too bizarre, god knows it is never just a coincidence with them. He looked back at Steve with a raised brow, nodding towards the picture, “Think maybe she took back her maiden name, and the Darcy of this time just happens to be a granddaughter named after her?” If so, maybe this just turned into a case of Bucky meeting his own granddaughter for the first time - so much for first impressions.

The cons of that argument were already piling up before Steve shook his head, “No, no that’s not the case,” Quietly and gently closing the photo album and setting it back onto their coffee table, Steve linked his hands together and stared at them, “When I first came out of the ice, she was one of the first people I searched for. Darcy disappeared on March 14th, the day news of Bucky’s death was delivered to his family, there was a whole report on it from the officers who were delivering the message,” Steve reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to assuage the feelings that resurfaced at the reminder, “Reports say she got locked inside Bucky’s old room - it had this frustrating habit of jamming shut - and when they finally managed to get inside, she was gone: No sign of her leaving through the window, no sign of struggle to indicate someone had come in and taken her, _nothing_ , it was like she just vanished into thin air. Outside of that, the whole neighborhood fell into a panic when a blockwide fiasco happened.”

“Darcy was the only reported casualty in the incident. They searched for a month before declaring her dead.”

“And Buck thinks Hydra had something to do with it? That she was one of his missions??” Of course the whole notion was implausible and ludicrous, if one did their basic math: Barnes had fallen off that train like a week prior to the incident at most, and it took Hydra nearly over twenty years to find a way to get him to do their bidding. But the man was nothing if not loathing and self punishing, god knows what this recent meeting incited. 

The pained look on Steve’s pale face was answer enough, “Tried to talk to him about it, but you know how he gets once he’s stuck in that headspace. At least he promised to talk to his therapist about it.” 

“What a mess, I swear! It can never be anything simple with you two,” Sam exhaled, running a hand down his face, “This is sure gonna be a doozy to explain to Darcy, like! _‘ Sorry about all that, you just look an awful lot like Barnes’ dead wife - named like her too.'_ , sure is gonna make future interaction awkward.” 

* * *

Jane was keenly eyeing the way Stark moved around her lab, sniffing around her stuff while she jotted down notes, feeling agitation once again rush through her at having this man relentlessly meddling around in her space of work. She let out a low growl of irritation, ready to give Stark a piece of her mind. 

_‘ You won’t have to worry about anyone snooping around your work.'_ her ass.

Just when she was about to open to her mouth with scathing warnings to back off, Darcy came stomping in, coffee and lunch in hand, and with a kicked dog look on her pale face. Her friend’s despondent demeanor immediately distracted Jane from her growing anger, frowning at the younger woman with concern, “Darcy, did something happen?”

She wordlessly took the offered coffee and paper bag, patiently waiting for her friend to gather her bearings and talk.

“Ugh, you won't believe it, Jane! I finally got to meet Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes in person, and it was a total and utter disaster!!” Darcy despaired, slouching over to her desk before dropping her entire weight onto her seat, burying her face in her hands, “They literally took one look at me and hightailed it out of there.” She further elaborated, voice muffled.

Jane chewed her panini, frowning over what her friend just told her, almost baffled, “Really?”

The woman couldn’t help but frown at the sound of Stark’s derisive snort, “They’re both a hundred years old, Lewis. You probably chafed at their old man sensibilities, looking the way you do.”

Darcy’s head snapped up to glare at the man, “Okay, 1) I wasn’t talking to you, so butt out, and 2) Kindly fuck off and get out of our lab, Stark,” With that, she turned towards Jane, frown turning back into something more desolate, “Janie, Barnes looked like he saw a ghost, with the way he was staring at me.” 

Jane hummed sympathetically, feeling sorry for her friend, “Maybe you just caught them on a bad day?” She tried to reassure her friend, a little confused at the encounter. It was kinda hard imagining those two reacting in such a way, especially around a woman, who they seemed more inclined to be polite to. 

“They were literally talking about The Hobbit before they saw me, Janey,” Darcy claimed, taking a long sip of her coffee. She had been trying to think of a reason for their reactions - particularly Barnes’, who's reaction had been more negative, and who was someone she was a bit partial to - and none of the explanations had been positive, “I probably reminded Barnes’ of someone from Hydra, considering my luck? That's probably the case.” She asserted, leaning her face on one hand, feeling absolutely bummed at the meeting.

“Don’t know why you’re so pressed about this, Lewis - they’re not that great.” Stark quipped. 

The two women ignored him and didn’t bother his comment with a response, “You should try talking to either of them, see if you can clear things up. I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not as bad as you might think.” Jane reassured, and her frown turned into something more severe at the sight of the man meddling with the dials of her equipment, harshly shoving her chair back and swiftly got up, moving towards the man’s direction. 

Darcy merely hummed in response, feeling a little cowed at the suggestion, “Maybe.” She mumbled into her cup, silently watching Jane’s interaction with Stark unfold.

Honestly, it’s not like she was expecting much to come out of meeting the two super soldiers, even if she had been dreaming of a friendly camaraderie with the two - especially after Sam told her of what they were actually like as people, a pair of trickster trolls, thick as thieves - and with the hopes for future shenanigans, she would’ve been cool with being friendly acquaintances with them. But alas, not even that seemed to be a possibility. 

The sound of shrill beeping violently pulled her out of her melancholy thoughts, head snapping up to find Jane pushing Stark away from her equipment, insults and anger spewing out of the petite woman’s mouth as she checked and fussed over the display screens.

“I swear to fucking god, Stark! Twenty times, twenty times since I got here that I damn well told you to stop touching my shit - but you just can’t seem to help yourself. If you did any damage to it, so help me! I will rip off that stupid excuse of facial hair right off your damn face!” Jane snarled, eyes swerving back and forth at whatever the screen was showing her. 

Stark lifted his hands defensively, leaning away from the angered woman, “Take a breather, why dontcha, Foster? I was only checking the coordinations unit, no need to throw a fit over it.” 

Jane’s hands clenched into fist, practically shaking with anger, “That is not for you to do however you fucking please, Stark! I came here under the assumption that I’d get to do my work in peace, but if I knew you wouldn’t follow through with that promise yourself, I wouldn’t have come here!! You think you’re exempt from anything you don’t like - gods! You spoiled, entitled, grubby hand, rich boy!!” She aggressively spat, intensely glaring up at him.

Darcy tensed at the situation, slowly paling at the sight of the artificial Bifrost humming louder and louder at the second, glowing brighter and beginning to spit sparks everywhere. Neither Jane nor Stark seemed to notice the sudden activity, too caught up in their argument to be aware of their own surroundings, “Jane?” She called out, getting up from her seat to make an intervention. 

The glowing only seemed to be getting brighter, and Darcy felt her heart stutter, a spark of fear overwhelming her when Jane failed to move away from the growing glow’s radius, pushing a stray chair aside and moved faster, fearing for her friend’s safety, “Jane!” 

Jane’s head snapped at her direction upon hearing her frantic call, and looked back at the Bifrost with alarm when she finally took notice to the situation around her. Stark was already stumbling away, bumping into one of the tables as he tripped back. 

Darcy could barely make out the sound of Friday’s voice ringing out when the Bifrost’s humming turned unbearingly loud, frantically lunging forward to push Jane out of the way, and heard Stark curse as she stumbled onto the floor, quickly looking up and watching as her friend crashed onto the floor on her side, rolling away from the blast zone.

The buzzing blocked out the sound of Jane crying out her name as her vision was overwhelmed by a blinding light. 

Jane slowly moved her hands away from where they were shielding her head, heart beating frantically as she took in the situation around her: The blinding light and ear piercing humming had finally gone down, leaving an unbearably loud silence behind, her Bifrost machine had shut down, spitting the occasional spark and just standing in its place with this strange ominous energy surrounding it. She quickly sat up, frantically looking around her and realizing with horror what was missing. 

She ignored the sound of thundering footsteps and Thor’s worried calls, looking at thin air with a bleak look on her face. 

“Darcy?” 


	2. Toto, I don't think we're in the 21rst century anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm beginning to realize this story is gonna be very heavy on the "Slice of Life" side of things, and I don't know if I should try to think of something exciting to add to Darcy's every day life in the 40's.....really hard, cause I keep coming up blank.  
> Anyways! Hope you enjoy.

Darcy groaned in discomfort, squirming where she lay in a heap on what she slowly took notice of was a grimy, concrete floor. Reaching up to rub her aching head, she grumbled in disorientation, “Ugh, what hit me?” 

It was then the putrid scent of sun-warmed garbage surrounding her finally seemed to register to her senses, and Darcy choked and gagged at the stench, opening her eyes to see just where she had landed herself in. A dingy alley by the looks of it, her fine brows furrowed as her confusion deepened, trying to recall what she last remembered: Lets see, she was spilling her woes over her _wonderful_ first official meeting with Barnes and the good ole Captain to Jane, Jane was tearing Stark a new one for meddling with her equipment, that equipment somehow activated and looked about ready to blow shit up with Jane in the crossfire, she pushed Jane out of its way, and then.….

Nothing, just the fact that Jane’s wormhole machine just managed to send her to some smelly alley way in god-knows-where.

With a huff, she rolled aside to lean up on her elbow, looking at her surroundings with utter bafflement. Of all the places the wormhole machine could have sent her, it was this, “Well! At least it worked.” She muttered to herself. Letting out an unattractive grunt, Darcy snatched her bag before stumbling to her feet, reaching for the wall as the world around her span. Taking in a few breaths - and desperately trying to ignore the rank smell around her - Darcy steadied and brushed herself off before slowly marching towards the alley’s entrance, and towards the source of the noise.

The bafflement came back to her full force at the sight that greeted her, looking around with gaping incredulity at the old model cars, the buildings, and the people’s clothes and silently thinking _‘_ _What. The. Fuck_ _’_. Smoothing down the skirt of her dress and clutching her bag closer, Darcy slowly tip-toed her way towards the even weirder newspaper stand to check the date with ever growing dread. 

_March 25th, 1940._

“Oh hell no.” She whispered to herself in horror, stumbling away from the newspaper. She didn’t look at where she was going in her haste until she was stumbling into someone, flinching and jumping away when someone was suddenly scolding her.

“Oi! Watch where ya goin’ eh!!” The greying man leered at her, straightening his jacket with a disgruntled expression before marching off with a huff.

“Sorry.….sorry.” She called at his retreating back. 

Darcy frantically moved in a circle, looking around her odd surroundings with a growing uneasiness. Was she dreaming, was this just a product of a severe concussion or something? Or did Janie’s machine really just send her back in actual fucking time?

Nearly tripping against her own feet, Darcy hastily looked around at the people walking past her - all giving her odd passing glances.

Darcy steeled her resolve and straightened her shoulders, taking in deep steadying breaths, trying to assuage her reeling anxiety, “Okay Lewis, this is fine, just peachy, you can work with this.” She muttered to herself, marching forward with her head high, intent on looking for some place to gather her bearings. 

What seemed like an inappropriate amount of staring and time walking later, Darcy finally found a bench to sit and sort out her thoughts and think up what she should do next. Subtly looking at the people passing by, Darcy quietly pulled out her phone, looking at the date and time with a frown. Figures it’d still read _3:45 PM,_ _August 10th_ , so it’s pretty much a given she won’t be able to rely on it for the actual time. 

With a huff, she put it away to check her wallet, feeling a sense of relief to find that she still has her money on her, so feeding her empty stomach and finding shelter won’t be a problem if it takes Jane a while to get her back. But the feeling of thrill that blooms in her crashes and burns when she catches sight of the year on a five dollar bill: 2010, and the date has her hastily checking the other eight bills she has on her. 

All of them were dated from 2008 and onward. 

Slumping back on the bench at the realization she didn’t have any valid money on her and thus rendered without resources, Darcy quickly tried to quell her panic as she tried to force her mind back on a game plan. Huffing out a breath, she pulled her phone back out to open a notepad, ready to type down her thoughts, _'_ _Okay Lewis, think. You need food, food requires money - of which you don’t have - and a job won’t get it for you in a day, so what’s a way to get some few quick bucks? ’_

“Selling something of yours.” She muttered, chewing at her lip as she looked down at her typed out thoughts. At the offered solution, Darcy looked down at her person, humming in dissatisfaction at finding nothing worth selling. 

Other than.….

Her hand went to the little gold locket around her neck in trepidation. It had been her nana’s, given by her grandpa, and something that she had admired for a great deal of her childhood before it had been given to her for her 16th birthday and had cherished ever since. The thought of selling it just to get some useful money - when she probably won’t even be in this era long - left her a sour taste in her mouth. 

A cold breeze pulled her from her thoughts, and she couldn’t help but shiver, looking around her with unease as she rubbed her bare arms. Darcy was quick to notice that it was getting dark, watching the sight of the sun begin to set. She felt conflicted at the understanding that she might be here for the night, and didn’t like the thought of sleeping on the streets during the beginnings of Spring.….or at all, if she was gonna be honest with herself. And there was still her persisting hunger to deal with.

With a trembling sigh, Darcy looked forlorn at the locket cradled in her fingers, “I’m sorry, nana.” Steeling her resolve, she got up and made her way towards the street vendor by the corner of the street, “Excuse me. But can you tell me where I can find the closest pawn shop?”

She ignored the way he eyed her, probably taking in the state of her hair and the oddity of her blue floral dress _‘_ _So much for going for a “vintage” look_ _’_ She thought waspishly. Wiping his hands, the man quietly gestured over his shoulder to the street across them, “It’s de one three buildings down.” He gruffly answered, already turning his attention back to his waiting client. 

Feeling a sense of relief that she wouldn’t have to walk far, Darcy threw the man a hasty “Thank you!” before she was crossing the street, hands sweating and anxiety rising higher the closer she got to her first destination. 

Pausing before the shop, Darcy wrung her hands with hesitation as she studied the sign, anxiety clawing at her chest at the mere prospect of selling something of great importance to her. An insistent growl from her stomach pointedly reminded her that she hasn’t eaten since breakfast, and had decided to skip out on lunch entirely in anticipation for her blind date, and time travel apparently worked up an appetite. Clenching her eyes tight, Darcy reached up to grasp her locket, “Sleep on a bed and get food, or hungry on the streets, Lewis. Those are your options.” 

With that, she pushed the door open and made her way inside, looking at all the merchandise displayed around her as she gently shut the door. The cashier was right a few feet away from her, and she was quick to close the distance, almost as if worried that the longer she stalled, the greater the chance she might change her mind and leave as quick as her feet could take her.

There wasn’t anybody waiting by the cashier register. With a frustrated pout, she leaned forward against the counter, trying to get a look into the back room, “Hello?” Darcy called out, only to huff after a minute when no one responded back, and settled back to look down at the bell, hesitantly reaching out before firmly tapping it.

_Ding!_

Darcy couldn’t suppress the childish urge to tap on the bell again, snorting in amusement as it rang through the small shop before doing it again. And she could only jump with alarm when a voice yelled out, “Yes, yes! I know, I heard ya de first time!! Okay?” And shrunk back as a stout man came lumbering in through the back door, roughly straightening his suspenders. He gave her a pretty impressive hairy eyeball, clearly not pleased with her foolishness, “Well how can I help ya today?” She had to give him points for his customer service voice, even if the smile had a little too much bite in it.

“I uh, sorry about the bell, and for rushing you. I’d like to sell something, this is the pawn shop, right?” She inquired, absently caressing the chain of her locket. 

Darcy smothered down her irritation as he looked around his shop with faux wonder, not at all appreciative of his display of mockery, “Noooo, not at all. Don’ let de sign fool ya, this is actually a car repair shop.” He smirked, raising a mocking brow at her.

“Fine, whatever. I get it, stupid question, moving on.” She didn’t miss the sound of the snort he made, probably surprised at her impertinence, and merely rolled her eyes as she fumbled to unlatch the chain. Pulling it away from her neck and hesitating for a moment before gently setting it onto the counter, “How much could I get with this?” 

She silently watched as he examined the necklace, looking at the engraved design, checking it through every possible angle. He gently unlatched it, peering inside the locket, staring at the picture inside before throwing her an inquiring glance, brow raised up, “Grandparents?” At her nod, he hummed before closing the locket shut. With a final appraising look, he settled the necklace between them, “Thirty nine bucks.” 

Shock and indignation rushed through her at his offer, gaping at the man with incredulity, “Thirty nine!? Are you nuts, this locket oughta be three hundred at least!!” Darcy loudly protested, unable to control the way her voice shrilled in her indignation and leaned forward.

She could only scowl as the man only threw his head back and barked in laughter, hand slapping down onto the counter in his boisterous amusement, “Three hundred? Okay?? Sweetheart, I can tell ya wit’ utmost certainty dat dis little thing ain't worth dat much. If anythin’, I’m bein’ generous, dis little locket of yours ain’t exactly in spic and span condition.” He gently asserted, flicking it before pushing the locket towards her. 

Darcy let out an indignant huff at the man's words, silently stewing over the price and counted to ten, chewing on her lip as she considered the man’s offer, thinking of cutting her losses. Three hundred dollars might have been reasonable in her time - especially something as old as her nana’s locket, but here? Where things were considerably cheaper? Her chin jutted determinedly as she pushed the necklace back towards him, intent on bargaining, “Eighty dollars.” 

“Forty five”

“Seventy five.”

“Fifty nine dollars, and not a cent more,” He stated with finality, pushing the piece of jewelry back towards her, leaning back and crossing his hairy arms, leering at her, “Take it or leave it, darling.”

He silently watched as the brazen, impudent broad considered the offer. Knowing all too well that she wouldn’t be able to reject it, judging by her haggard and disarrayed appearance. He pursued his lips, pondering the intent to give her a little nudge, he’d be doing her a favor really, “Ya know, Ms. I gave my final offer, but I’m not exactly keen on takin’ it from ya. Looks like something ya hold a bit dear, right?” It hadn’t been hard to miss the way she eyed the piece of jewelry, looking like she was barely holding herself back from snatching the damn thing and running, “So why dontcha run along home now wit’ your peace in mind.”

 _'Home, not exactly an option right now pal.'_ She grumbled to herself, looking around her in agitation before letting out an unladylike snort as she pushed the locket away from her, “I’ll take that offer.” Darcy thought she might be a bit ridiculous in thinking the statement felt like a death sentence, watching as the pawnbroker deftly picked up her nana’s locket.

“Nice doin’ business wit’ ya,” Darcy half expected the man to pull up the blinders, revealing his scamming act as he lorded over his newly acquired possession like a cartoonish con artist. And frowned when he didn’t, turning out to be just a simple man doing his job as he gently pulled aside the locket’s tiny tabs to ease out the tiny picture within, quietly offering it out to her, “Here ya go.” 

“Thank you.” Darcy murmured in response, feeling a bit numb as she took the photo from him.

“Oughta say, dis’d be a pretty interestin’ story to tell once someone buys dis. Ya wit’ me? Hope ya don’t mind.” He threw her an appraising look, setting the necklace aside to turn his attention to the cash register.

Darcy merely waved a dismissive hand, unbothered by the notion, “Go right ahead.” It’s not like she’d be around long to worry about any potential rumors. 

“Here ya go, your fifty nine dollars,” She keenly watched as he set out the bills before her, intent on making sure she was given her due. There was no deceit on his part, feeling relief as she took the offered money from him and quickly tucking it inside her wallet, eager to get something to eat and find somewhere to lie low. Darcy was just about to open the door when the man called out to her, “Do come again sometime, I want to see what else ya have to sell at an outrageous price.” 

She let out a scoff at his teasing, and rolled her eyes at him, “Don’t count on it.” Darcy couldn’t help but smile at the laugh that followed, offering the man a short wave and a thank you before exiting the shop. 

Cold air instantly enveloped her, and Darcy aggressively rubbed her exposed arms and squirmed, “Why couldn’t I have had my jacket on when this shit happened?” She whined to herself, looking at both ends of the street. There were less people than there was earlier, probably nice and warm in their cozy little homes while she froze her exposed limbs off, “Coffee is sounding really good right about now.” 

She reached up to touch her locket, looking for a sense of comfort. Her bare neck went and reminded her of her little exchange, looking over her shoulder to throw the pawnshop a glowering look, resenting her situation for pushing her in this hard spot. Darcy tried to squash down the sense of loss over the necklace, trying to wiping away the burning sensation of tears in her eyes; she could go back inside and demand a refund, and get her nana's locket back. Maybe just suck it up and wait out her hunger until someone came. But a look around the quiet and desolate streets around her aroused a sense of unease with the reminder that hunger wouldn't be the only problem.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Darcy let out a beriefed sigh.

“Hopefully gramps can still get nana that locket.” She thought out loud, stepping towards the edge of the street until a memory suddenly hit her. Her gramps went to art college here in Brooklyn, and met nana when she was paying family a visit; Darcy could always recall the story of when he got his by then sweetheart that locket, always remembered fondly the story the pawnbroker told him about the demanding little bird who had been the original owner who wanted to sell the necklace for a ridiculously high price, an obscene demand despite the necklace’s actual worth. 

Darcy’s face heated up with growing embarrassment as realization dawned on her, slowly turning around to stare up at the pawnshop sign, mortified and aghast to find that she was the _‘_ _demanding little bird_ _’_ in her grandpa’s story, “I’m the reason the family always starts talking about inflation?” 

Then what did that mean, in the end? That she was always destined to be sent back in time, that would make this a time loop, right?? But then, did that also mean she’d be stuck here permanently, or was there still hope of returning home? 

With a huff, cutting herself off from any further gloomy thoughts. Darcy crossed the street, intent on finding that little old diner she had walked past an hour ago, not wanting to dwell on that disconcerting line of thought any longer.

The diner was standing just where she remembered it would, thank god, and Darcy quickly made her way towards the little establishment, eager for some food and a hot cup of coffee. She sighed in relief upon entering, glad to finally escape the cold again, and looked around her. There were only a few other people other than the waiters, eating and quietly conversing amongst themselves - not bothering the newcomer a second glance - and she sighed, walking towards the closet table available.

Unwilling to draw attention to herself, rubbing away any remaining chills as she sat down quietly and waited patiently for a waiter to come tend to her, silently chewing on her nail and let herself get lost in her thoughts. 

She immediately sat up at attention when a tall, pudgy waitress showed up at her table, deftly setting down a napkin wrapped bundle of eating utensils, and a tray of condiments before gently setting down the menu in front of her, turning to give Darcy a welcoming smile, “Hi! Welcome to Phil’s diner, I’m Charlotte, I’ll be serving you today.”

“Hi, I’d like a cup of coffee and uh.….can I ask what the specials are?” Darcy quietly asked, giving the woman a tentative smile. She tried to give no indication of her mental boggling at the waitress’ appearance - it was almost bizarre, seeing first hand how a woman presented herself in this era: The subtle makeup, the red lipstick, the perfectly curled bob, her dress didn’t reveal cleavage at all [but was that the norm, or because it was a uniform?], in comparison, she looked like an absolute slob, no wonder she got looks. Darcy shook off the thought, not wanting to come off as rude if the woman did catch on to her staring, and looked down to marvel at the food prices, nothing on it was over a dollar.

Taking a quick note in her pad, Charlotte gave a quick nod, “Sure can! The specials today are the roast beef sandwich and our tomato soup, both come with a side of potatoes cooked at your preference.” 

“Uh, I’d like the roast beef sandwich.” 

“Would you prefer the side dish to be fried, roasted, or mashed?” She had a pretty smile. 

“Fries would be fine, thank you.”

“Absolutely! So that’d be a cup of coffee and a roast beef sandwich with a side of fries coming right up!” She chirped, quickly heading for the kitchen. Darcy could hear her voice ring through the small diner as she gave the chef her order. 

It wasn’t long before the waitress, Charlotte, came back, setting down an empty cup before filling it up with steamy coffee, Darcy had to keep herself from snatching it up and inhaling the scorching black liquid of goodness, instead looking up at the waitress and offering her a soft “Thank you.”

She found the woman studying her, most likely taking in her haggard, miskept appearance, “Rough day, sugar?”

Letting out a nervous chuckle, Darcy spooned two scoops of sugar into her drink, silently reaching for the creamer, “Is it that obvious?” 

Charlotte offered a nonchalant shrug in response, hoping not to come off as offensive, “A little.”

“Lets just say, I was entirely unprepared for this unexpected trip to Brooklyn.” Darcy offered, sighing as she took a sip.

Tilting her head, Charlotte looked at the younger woman with curiosity, setting the coffee pot onto the table to straighten her apron, reaching for the rag inside her pocket to wipe down the table across from them, curious for more of the poor girl’s tale, “Ran away from home?” It certainly seemed like it, judging by the girl’s sardonic comment, and it would sure explain her appearance. Must have been in quite a rush to leave if she failed to pack all or any of her belongings, _‘_ _Stockings included._ _’_ she thought idly, eyeing her customer’s bare legs, the poor deary.

Darcy hummed, thinking over the assumption before agreeing, “Yeah, something like that,” it would make for a decent enough cover story, if any other person got curious, and sure seemed to imply sensitive enough details to keep from further questions. She lifted her head to look at the waitress, “Are there any hotels around, by any chance?” 

Charlotte tucked the rag back into her apron, “There is one. Just walk two blocks to the left from here before turning to the right, it’d be there, not exactly five stars though.” She offered, giving her a weak shrug. 

They both nearly jumped as a booming voice filled the silence, “ _Charlotte, quite with ya gossiping and get back to work! Order six is up!!_ ”

“A’ight a’ight, I’m going! Yeesh,” The blonde waitress muttered in aggravation, moving to pick up the pot, refilling the girl’s cup and offering her an apologetic smile, “Sorry about that, your order will be right up.”

Darcy waved a hand, unbothered by the interruption, “It’s fine, really. Thanks for the help, you’re a lifesaver.”

Watching as the friendly woman left, Darcy quickly pulled out her phone and typed down directions, unwilling to risk forgetting them, even if that has never been a thing for her since high school, “Okay, Lewis. You’re all set,” She muttered to herself as she tucked her phone away, idly looking around to check if anyone noticed her phone, didn’t need to freak anyone out in case they mistook it for something suspicious…..like a bomb.

“Here ya go, one roast beef sandwich,” Charlotte announced, deftly setting the dish before her. Darcy flushed in embarrassment when her stomach growled loudly, turning redder when the other woman raised a brow at her, “Enjoy your meal. Oh! And if you need any more help in anything, you know where to find me.” The waitress gave her a meaningful look before leaving her to her meal.

So it’s safe to say she might have an ally now, that’s good, allies are always a good thing to have, especially at the chance she might be here longer than expected and needed to figure out how this era worked, even if it did make her a little nervous about accidently spilling any future information. _‘_ _Consider it as an espionage mission._ _’_ She thought to herself, popping a fry into her mouth. Try to blend in with the crowd, act like you belong in this strange era, the works! And if she succeeds, maybe she can brag about it a little when she gets home.

With that thought in mind, Darcy put any further thought of her situation to rest and decided to eat her food in peace.

She might have stumbled through how much she should tip the waitress, should she leave a one dollar tip? Two?? Would that be too much or too little??? Darcy hesitated for a moment before shrugging off the little conflict, getting up and stepping away from the table, eyeing the two dollars before shrugging, unbothered. If it turned out a bit more than what was expected, the bit of generosity wouldn’t hurt, besides, the waitress had been helpful, it’s the least she could do.

Pushing the door open, Darcy momentarily grimaced at the weather before sighing, bracing the cold and moving forward.

* * *

“What happened?” Steve demanded, assessing the situation around him with a frown. Dr. Foster was hovering over what must’ve been the control|coordinates systems of her artificial Bifrost machine, Thor was silently fussing over her - and he did not miss the way the god threw harried looks at the empty desk by the entrance - and Stark was standing in a corner, looking like a mulishly chastised child.

He and Sam were just gonna go and try to convince Bucky to leave the gym in favor of going out for a run, when Friday had reported them of an incident going on in Dr. Foster’s lab. By the time they got there, there was just this big flash of light overwhelming the entirety of the woman’s lab, and then nothing, everything had gone from fine to tense when Dr. Foster had called out for the woman from earlier, looking around frantically.

Thor turned to look at him, a discontent frown on his face, throwing Stark a derisive look, “Stark was once again fooling around with Jane’s Bifrost machinery - despite her demands that he shouldn’t - and it activated on them. Darcy was sucked in when pushing Jane out of the crossfire, and now we’re trying to figure out where the Bifrost sent her.” He reported, placing a placating hand on the agitated woman’s shoulder. 

He was about to turn to Stark with questions when Dr. Foster slammed a fist against the machinery, angry expletives bursting from her lips. Tensing when the petite woman turned her attention towards the shorter man, “I don’t know what you did, Stark, but whatever it is you were doing, whatever coordinates you were placing are gone, it basically reset itself, so you are gonna move your ass in gear and show me.” She demanded, getting in his face. 

Everyone resisted the urge to sigh at the impertinent look on the man’s face, already bracing for the reaction at whatever might come out of his mouth, “You told me not to touch your shit.”

Steve was ready to interfere on the woman’s behalf, until he took notice of that distinctively cold look in the woman’s eye, and knew full well - before he even heard Thor’s softly uttered, “ _Oh boy._ ” - just what that look meant, He’s seen it many times in his life, from his ma, his teacher, Peggy, Darcy, Natasha - and he did not feel any sympathy for Stark.

_SMACK!_

They all collectively tried to smother their amusement at the sound of Tony’s loud yelp echoing throughout the lab, watching as the man clutched his nose, eyeing the short woman with indignation, “Jesus Christ, woman! Are you trying to fucking break my nose?!”

He didn’t get a chance to further complain when she reached up to grab his collar, yanking him forward to meet her eye, “You’re gonna listen to me very carefully: Because of you, my best friend is missing and I don’t have a clue as to where she was sent. And if you don’t help me, Stark, so help me! I’m gonna find the most painful method possible to castrate you, maybe that’ll give you a fucking personality adjustment. Do. You. Understand?” 

Steve honest to god could not recall a time the man looked so cowed [other than when Pepper was around], clutching his nose protectively and eyeing the angry, petite woman with big round eyes, “Got it, chief.” He squeaked. 

Before Steve could ask if there was any help required of them, Friday’s voice rang through the air, “Captain Rogers, Ms. Maximoff is asking if there’s any further assistance needed with the situation in Dr. Foster’s lab?” 

His attention went to Dr. Foster, giving her an inquiring look, and she shook her head, “Don’t think there’s much for you guys to do here in this situation, unless you want to straighten up the mess.” She offered, instinctively reaching over to slap Stark’s hand away from where it shouldn't be without so much as looking at him.

Nodding in assent, “Tell them to be on standby, Friday.” With that, he moved to join Sam and Natasha in picking up the mess left behind.

“Honestly, Stark. It’s always you.” He heard Natasha mutter under her breath, throwing the aforementioned man a look and silently agreeing.

* * *

Charlotte was right about one thing, the place definitely wasn’t a luxurious five star hotel, she was pretty certain it didn’t even count as a three star, Darcy thought idly, eyeing the sparse little hotel room wearily as she shut the door behind her. She had felt a spark of anxiety when she had to pay twenty one dollars for a week's stay, her mind worrying over how long she might be here and if she’d have enough money to last her the stay. 

Absently rubbing at her nose and scrutinizing her surroundings, Darcy wondered if this place was like, the equivalent to a Motel 6, from the layout, to the squeaky floor boards, down to the crappy little table in the corner, the ugly wallpaper was about the only thing that set the two places apart though. 

Dropping her bag onto the vanity sitting across the bed, Darcy slowly started unbuttoning her dress before remembering it was the only piece of clothing on her, and she sure as hell wasn’t sleeping on the questionably clean bed in her undergarments, letting out an exhausted sigh before proceeding, fumbling around to unclasp her bra before buttoning up again, dropping the bra onto the bed.

A troubled sigh escaped her lips as she leaned down to remove her heeled shoes, frowning as she rubbed away the ache. 

This was hardly the first time she's ever been alone, she had been to summer camp at fourteen, and she had fend for herself at college just fine, living in a small dorm with an equally boisterous roommate, but to say she had grown accustomed to her companions constant presence would be an understatement, and it left her floundering at suddenly finding herself alone.

A spark of paranoia quickly had her moving to lock the door. 

Leaning her forehead against the door with a soft thump, Darcy found herself drained of any of the resolve she might have summoned to get her through the day, sluggishly moving to stand by the window and stare at whatever scenery this fifth floor room offered her. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to push away the climbing anxiety pushing through now that she didn’t have anything to distract her from her current predicament.

“Please find me soon, Janie.” She whispered.

With that, she turned away from the window to go to bed.


End file.
